


waking up at the start of the end of the world

by becasbelt



Series: zombie au [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Moments, One-Shots, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24895654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becasbelt/pseuds/becasbelt
Summary: A series of missing moments and one-shots from my zombie au fic.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: zombie au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801432
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	waking up at the start of the end of the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue of sorts to the original fic. Chloe attempts to pick up the pieces of herself after Beca's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation of the fic that literally nobody asked for! I blame The Last of Us and chloebeale for my sudden obsession with zombies.
> 
> Fic title is from "How Far We've Come" by Matchbox Twenty.

_Beca’s body falls backward from the force of the bullet going through her head. Chloe immediately drops the cold gun in her hands and sinks to her knees, a sob already starting to build up in the back of her throat. She stares in shock at Beca’s limp body, bringing her shaking hands up to cover the sounds of her cries._

_How did things go from perfect to terrible so fast?_

_Chloe doesn’t bother wiping her tears away as she scoots forward on the ground until she reaches where Beca is lying, gaze avoiding the wound in her forehead as she strokes a hand over Beca’s cheek. Beca’s eyes stare up at the sky; the deep blue color in them almost looking gray as they reflect the clouds above them._

_Looking into Beca’s eyes right now, Chloe can almost transport herself back in time; back to a time when she and Beca were as happy and carefree as was possible in this god-forsaken world. A time when the corners of Beca’s eyes crinkled when she laughed at one of Chloe’s bad jokes. A time when her nose would wrinkle adorably when she was confused about something. A time when her lips would press against Chloe’s so tenderly, as if she wanted to savor the feeling forever._

_Chloe reaches up and gently closes Beca’s eyes for the last time. Then, she rests her forehead against the chest of the woman she loves and lets the sobs overcome her body._

* * *

Chloe’s eyes open slowly as she wakes from the memory, staring blankly at the empty half of the bed next to her as Chloe tries to let the rest of her body catch up with her brain. She felt numb, as if her emotions couldn’t quite process what her mind had played out for what felt like the hundredth time, but Chloe would take this reaction over her waking up due to her own tears like she usually did.

It had been one month since they had arrived in Portland, and the pain in Chloe’s heart hadn’t eased in the slightest. It had been a month of Chloe walking around her parent’s house like a… well, like a zombie. As if her soul had left her body at the same time Beca’s did.

And those were just the days when she actually found the motivation to get out of bed.

Chloe knows her family is worried about her; quite frankly, she’s worried about _herself._ She knows she’s not okay, despite how she tells her parents that she is, and she has no idea when she will be. Beca had been in her life for just a few short months, but to Chloe it had felt like an entire lifetime. Beca came into Chloe’s life like a firecracker: so bright and so incredibly overtaking, but gone before Chloe could get the chance to even take a breath.

Still, as much as Chloe would like to just lay in bed and waste away, she knows that’s not what Beca would want for her. _You’re the strongest person I know,_ Beca had told her. If Beca believed that was true for Chloe, then Chloe just _had_ to try believing it was true for herself.

Which meant that she couldn’t lay in bed all day.

Chloe is just barely sitting up when a soft knock comes to her door. She clears her throat to get rid of the morning scratchiness to tell whoever it is that she’s getting up, but the door opens before she has the chance.

Chris slips quietly into the room, slight worry evident in his eyes despite the small smile he wears. “Hey, Mom’s wondering if you’re coming down to breakfast today.”

Chloe tries not to wince at the gentle tone he uses, hating the way it reminds her how broken she is. “Um, yeah. I was just about to get up, actually,” she responds, avoiding eye contact.

The stiffness in their interaction is uncomfortable, which is another thing that Chloe hates. Things haven’t been the same between them since Chloe has been home, and not just because of the apocalypse and the usual stress that came with living in it.

As much as Chloe hated herself for it, she couldn’t help but look at Chris and feel… bitterness. A small part of her, as much as Chloe wished that part didn’t exist, blamed Chris for Beca’s death. He was the one who had called Chloe and told her that they were all in Portland, he was the one who told her to cross the country, he was the reason Beca agreed to go with Chloe in the first place.

But none of that was fair to Chris- none of this was his fault. He didn’t force Chloe to come home. He didn’t infect Beca. He wasn’t the one that pulled the trigger.

Still, whenever Chloe looked at her brother, she couldn’t stop the feeling of resentment from creeping into her mind.

Chloe forces her eyes to Chris, trying for what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be down in a minute, okay?”

Chris bobs his head at her answer. “Okay great, I’ll just… leave you to it, then,” he says awkwardly before stepping back out of the room as quietly as he’d entered.

Once he’s gone, Chloe builds up the last bit of motivation she needs to get out of bed, pushing herself to her feet with a sigh as she does so. She shrugs on one of Beca’s flannels over her tank top, grateful for the small comfort it provides her. When Chloe closes her eyes and presses her face against the fabric, she can almost pretend for a moment that Beca is still there with her, ready to tease Chloe about how creepy it is that she’s smelling her clothes.

Chloe pushes the thought out of her mind before it can send her spiraling and surveys her room one more time to make sure she doesn’t need anything else. Her eyes land on the pistol sitting on her desk, exactly where it’s been for the past month. A knot forms in Chloe’s chest at the sight, and she turns quickly towards the door, forcing herself to face the day whether she’s ready or not.

* * *

Chloe shuts the front door softly behind her as she enters the house. Her mother appears around the corner a moment later, worry evident in her features.

“Hi, sweetie,” she greets warmly, inspecting Chloe from head to toe briefly, most likely looking for injuries or bites. “Where did you head off to?”

“Just visiting Beca’s grave,” Chloe say, breezing past her mother and walking into the kitchen. Her mom follows close behind, and Chloe braces herself for the lecture she already knows she’s going to get.

“That’s the third time this week you’ve gone out by yourself, Chloe,” her mom says, not unkindly but still firmly. Chloe rolls her eyes and grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t visit her, but I don’t like you going out on your own.”

“I can handle myself,” Chloe says with a shrug, inspecting the apple in her hands.

Her mother sighs. “I know you can. I’m just worried that one day you’ll be distracted and get overwhelmed and-”

“So what if I am?” Chloe interrupts, squeezing her apple as she looks back up at her mom. The woman’s mouth snaps shut, concern filling her eyes at the question. “So what if I get caught off guard? So what if I don’t make it out of a situation? So what if they get to me before I get to them?” Chloe looks back down at her fruit, willing the tears she can feel in her throat to stay down. “It’s not like it could be anything worse than living in this hell anyway.”

A thick silence falls between them, only broken when her mom exhales shakily. “I don’t like that line of thinking with you, Chloe,” she says, voice hushed.

Chloe shrugs. “Well I’m not a fan of surviving right now, so I guess it’s fitting,” she says numbly, a singular tear rolling down her cheek.

Her mom stays quiet for another moment before saying, “You know that this isn’t what Beca would want for you, right?”

And just like that, the dam inside of Chloe breaks, and the tears start falling freely from her eyes. Her apple falls to the floor. “I miss her so much,” she chokes out, her hands coming up to stifle her sobs.

Her mother steps forward and wraps her arms around Chloe, and Chloe sinks into the familiar embrace gratefully. She continues to cry while her mother makes small noises of comfort, hands rubbing up and down Chloe’s back.

“Can you do me a favor?” her mom says a while later, still holding tightly onto Chloe even after the tears have mostly subsided. Chloe pulls away so that they’re face-to-face once more, her mother reaching up to tuck a loose piece of Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “If I can’t get you to live for yourself, can you try to live for me?” She waits a beat, and then, “Can you try living for Beca?”

Chloe looks deep into her mother’s eyes, seeing the intensity and desperation held within them, and breathes out a steadying breath. “I can do that,” she says, as firmly as she can.

Her mom smiles softly. “Thank you,” she whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against Chloe’s forehead.

Chloe closes her eyes at the feeling and takes a deep breath. Her mom was right; even if Chloe couldn’t live for herself, she could at least live for her mother.

She would live for Beca.

* * *

_“Can you imagine if you had come here? Maybe we would have met a lot sooner.”_

_Chloe asks the question wistfully, letting herself imagine life before the outbreak, this time with Beca in it._

_Beca grins. “Maybe you would have tried convincing me to join your lame a cappella group,” she teases, tickling Chloe’s knee._

_Chloe giggles and shoves at Beca’s shoulder lightly. “Maybe I would have succeeded and we would have made the Bellas the greatest a cappella group_ ever _.”_

_They laugh together for a moment before Chloe feels something shift between them. She watches as Beca’s eyes roam over her face, eventually settling on her lips._

_“I wish I’d known you before this all started,” Beca murmurs, thumb rubbing delicately over Chloe’s knuckles._

_Chloe’s breath hitches. “I wish I’d known you before, too,” she replies softly. She hesitates for only a moment before leaning in to brush a soft kiss across Beca’s lips. Chloe pulls away a moment later, ready to apologize for her actions, but Beca pulls her right back in with a hand on the back of her neck._

_As they trade soft kisses by the glow of the fire, Chloe can’t help but wonder how she got so lucky to be gifted with Beca Mitchell during the end of the world._

“Aunt Chloe?”

Chloe is ripped from the memory by the timid voice to her left. She looks over and sees a freshly-cleaned Keira standing on the porch, looking at her curiously.

“Hey, Keira. Did you have a good bath?” Chloe asks, beckoning the six-year-old child over to where she’s sitting in the porch swing.

Keira nods her head and clambers up onto Chloe’s lap, cuddling in close. She remains quiet once situated, seeming content to sit in silence with Chloe. The silence was a recent development for the small girl, something that had happened sometime around the same time the end of the world did. It was shocking to Chloe at first, seeing Keira so quiet when she used to be so full of excitement and friendly chatter, but now she thinks she understands how it came to be. After all, Chloe supposes she’s sort of become the same way.

The poor girl has been through so much so early in her life, and sometimes words just don’t feel the same as they used to.

_“You know, I’ve always liked watching the rain,” Beca whispers, pulling Chloe tighter against her body. “There’s just something about listening to it… makes me feel like everything will be okay, somehow.”_

Chloe buries her nose in chocolate curls – curls so similar to Beca’s that it makes her chest ache – and squeezes her arms tighter around Keira’s small body. She watches the rain fall beyond the outskirts of the porch, listens to its gentle rhythm, and feels herself begin to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there's anything you would like to see in this universe either down in the comments below or on my tumblr at becasbelt!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
